Read Online SF in The City Anthology by Joshua Wilkinson - Free Book Online
Authors: Joshua Wilkinson
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(NBSI).”
“Nerd!” Charlisle gave his fellow gang member a poke in the ribs. “You’re going to get a real job someday, aren’t you?”
“Why not?” The youth looked at his friend, as if in pity. “You could find a corporation interested in your skills. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, but where would the fun be in that,” another voice called from down the alleyway.
“Sup Norn,” Charlisle could afford to address their fearless leader informally. He’d been wise enough to never get on his bad side.
There had always been tension between the boss and Vox; however, since everyone knew who was the smarter between the two of them. With a machete hanging next to his right hip, it was obvious why Norn’s authority had gone unchallenged. Taking a comb to his spiked blue hair, which Charlisle always found reminiscent of an anime character’s, Norn evinced such confidence that he never needed to draw a weapon on his own followers.
“What are you listenin’ to?” the group’s hacker asked innocently. Norn had the volume cranked up so high on his micro-liners that people could probably hear the music a mile away.
“‘GMO’ from Key to the Kuffs ,” Norn said as he mentally turned down the volume.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Char lisle admitted with a chuckle.
“It’s actually a very prescient piece o f work,” Vox said stoically.
“Of course you would have heard of it,” Norn smirked. “I don’t think there’s a song you haven’t heard of.”
“Yeah, and the bongger listens to crap with violins in it too, I bet,” Nettles half stumbled into the alleyway. A bloody chain hung in the grasp of his heavily scarred hands.
“Who was the lucky recipient of that ,” Charlisle pointed at the gangster’s weapon.
“Some meathead dissed on my shoes in line at the deli,” Nettles jumped onto the covering of the alley’s only dumpster. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as sturdy as he thought.
“Did he also point out your poor relationship with gravity?” Vox chortled.
“No. He did mention sleeping with your mom last night,” Nettles was famed for his strength, not wit.
“Oh, I’m so offended,” Vox ran his hand over his shaved head, a sign that he was thinking of the next insult to send his rival’s way. A tattoo of a Greek laurel ran all the way around his skull.
“Yeah you better be,” Nettles pulled the remnants of a shredded document out of his red-dyed Mohawk and climbed out of the dumpster.
“Well we’re all accounted for except Probably,” Norn asserted. “Where the devil is that kid?”
As the youngest member of the Dingoneks, Probably Guruson had a bad habit for arriving late to meetings. Unlike his fellow members, he had a specific problem – attentive parents. Vox and Norn had lived without families for years, and Charlisle’s mother hadn’t been very present in his life after his father’s incarceration. Nettles had a legal guardian, but he did ephemerol so often that he rarely noticed the youth’s absence.
“Does anyone have his number?” Vox looked at each of his fellow members.
“He gave it to me before,” Nettles spoke up, “but I deleted it.”
“I still have it,” Charlisle said.
“You haven’t had problems with unwanted calls?” Norn asked incredulously.
“Believe me, I have plenty of pointless texts popping up in my mind,” Charlisle sighed.
The rest of the gang laughed as the hacker sent a mental call to Probably. It took six rings before he picked up. Charlisle nodded and established the signal as a group call, with Probably’s “voice” popping up in the nanotubes present in all the gang members’ brains.
“Yo Probably, didn’t you get the memo?” Charlisle asked telepathically. “We’re waiting on you.”
“Sorry Char, my dad needed me to, like, take a bag of glass bottles to the recyc’ center.”
“How far away are you?” Nettles
“Nerd!” Charlisle gave his fellow gang member a poke in the ribs. “You’re going to get a real job someday, aren’t you?”
“Why not?” The youth looked at his friend, as if in pity. “You could find a corporation interested in your skills. I’m sure of it.”
“Yeah, but where would the fun be in that,” another voice called from down the alleyway.
“Sup Norn,” Charlisle could afford to address their fearless leader informally. He’d been wise enough to never get on his bad side.
There had always been tension between the boss and Vox; however, since everyone knew who was the smarter between the two of them. With a machete hanging next to his right hip, it was obvious why Norn’s authority had gone unchallenged. Taking a comb to his spiked blue hair, which Charlisle always found reminiscent of an anime character’s, Norn evinced such confidence that he never needed to draw a weapon on his own followers.
“What are you listenin’ to?” the group’s hacker asked innocently. Norn had the volume cranked up so high on his micro-liners that people could probably hear the music a mile away.
“‘GMO’ from Key to the Kuffs ,” Norn said as he mentally turned down the volume.
“I’ve never heard of it,” Char lisle admitted with a chuckle.
“It’s actually a very prescient piece o f work,” Vox said stoically.
“Of course you would have heard of it,” Norn smirked. “I don’t think there’s a song you haven’t heard of.”
“Yeah, and the bongger listens to crap with violins in it too, I bet,” Nettles half stumbled into the alleyway. A bloody chain hung in the grasp of his heavily scarred hands.
“Who was the lucky recipient of that ,” Charlisle pointed at the gangster’s weapon.
“Some meathead dissed on my shoes in line at the deli,” Nettles jumped onto the covering of the alley’s only dumpster. Unfortunately, it wasn’t as sturdy as he thought.
“Did he also point out your poor relationship with gravity?” Vox chortled.
“No. He did mention sleeping with your mom last night,” Nettles was famed for his strength, not wit.
“Oh, I’m so offended,” Vox ran his hand over his shaved head, a sign that he was thinking of the next insult to send his rival’s way. A tattoo of a Greek laurel ran all the way around his skull.
“Yeah you better be,” Nettles pulled the remnants of a shredded document out of his red-dyed Mohawk and climbed out of the dumpster.
“Well we’re all accounted for except Probably,” Norn asserted. “Where the devil is that kid?”
As the youngest member of the Dingoneks, Probably Guruson had a bad habit for arriving late to meetings. Unlike his fellow members, he had a specific problem – attentive parents. Vox and Norn had lived without families for years, and Charlisle’s mother hadn’t been very present in his life after his father’s incarceration. Nettles had a legal guardian, but he did ephemerol so often that he rarely noticed the youth’s absence.
“Does anyone have his number?” Vox looked at each of his fellow members.
“He gave it to me before,” Nettles spoke up, “but I deleted it.”
“I still have it,” Charlisle said.
“You haven’t had problems with unwanted calls?” Norn asked incredulously.
“Believe me, I have plenty of pointless texts popping up in my mind,” Charlisle sighed.
The rest of the gang laughed as the hacker sent a mental call to Probably. It took six rings before he picked up. Charlisle nodded and established the signal as a group call, with Probably’s “voice” popping up in the nanotubes present in all the gang members’ brains.
“Yo Probably, didn’t you get the memo?” Charlisle asked telepathically. “We’re waiting on you.”
“Sorry Char, my dad needed me to, like, take a bag of glass bottles to the recyc’ center.”
“How far away are you?” Nettles
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